


Nollaig Shona Duit

by Lady_Saddlebred



Series: Lessons They Never Taught Me [46]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21834370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Saddlebred/pseuds/Lady_Saddlebred
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Lessons They Never Taught Me [46]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/99608
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13
Collections: Master Apprentice Archive





	Nollaig Shona Duit

Title: Nollaig Shona Duit

Author: Lady_Saddlebred (cdelapin@yahoo.com)

Archive: Yes, please

Category: Q/O, Alternate Reality

Rating: PG

Series: Lessons They Never Taught Me in School (archived)

DISCLAIMER: George Lucas owned everything, until he sold it to Disney. We own nothing, just playing in his playground.

Special thanks to Katbear and Merry Amelie and Helen, mes betas par excellence! This is an unbeta’ed little Yuletide offering. Any mistakes are mine.

Previous fics in series: all on AO3 website:  
Early Admission  
Lessons They Never Taught Me in School  
Lessons That Were Never on the Syllabus  
That Which Does Not Go to School  
Rainy Day Recess  
Of Popcorn and Pine Trees  
Fit to Print  
Daffodils  
Spring Cotillion  
Is That a Lightsaber I See Before Me?  
A Pen for Your Thoughts  
When I Was Your Age  
Partners  
Mum’s the Word  
Best Laid Plans  
An Apple for Teacher  
What’s for Supper?  
Pacifier  
Snow Angels  
One Man’s Junk  
May I Have This Dance?  
Four Green Fields  
Too Darned Hot  
Pomp and Circumstances  
Summertime Blues  
Blow the Man Down  
Post-Graduate Studies  
Crossing the Pond  
Moving On  
Picnic in the Park  
Family Matters  
Meeting of the Moms  
Ebony and Ivories  
A Less Than Perfect Storm  
Chicken Soup  
Measuring Up  
The Drinking Game  
Rainy Day Recess Revisited  
Step It Out  
Souls Mirrored  
The Pizza Fairy  
Trick or Treat  
Moonlight  
May the Fourth Be With You

~*~*~*~

“Hey, Paul, got a minute?” Ben called.

“Sure thing,” his First Call teammate answered, walking over to Ben’s desk. “What’s up?”

Ben gestured to him to sit down. “I’ve been thinking about that remote-controlled boat you had the picnic last year. I was wondering if you’d help me find one for Quinn, for Christmas.” 

Quinn had fallen in lust over Paul’s handmade craft at the First Call event. He’d even managed to navigate the pond without tipping it over. Paul had teasingly suggested Ben get one for him for Christmas, but Ben had gone with the antique ebony cane instead. This year, though…

Paul frowned. “I can show you some places to look, but frankly, the ones I’ve seen advertised lately have been junk. *Expensive*, too.” At Ben’s crestfallen expression, he smiled. “I could build you one,” he offered.

“Wait, I wasn’t asking you to *make* it!” Ben protested. “I was just hoping you could recommend something.”

Paul nodded. “Yeah, but like I said, the ones out there this year are pure crap. You want something that’ll last, right? I’ve been in the mood to do some woodworking anyway. Give me a good excuse to get down in the basement and putter.” He grinned. “The wife’ll thank you for it, trust me.”

Ben leaned back in his chair, considering. “Would you have time…” he began.

“Sure. You buy the materials and I can have it done before Christmas, no worries.” 

“How much?” Ben asked cautiously. Paul thought a moment, then quoted him a price. Ben nodded. “And your labor?”

Paul shrugged. “Included.”

“No way!” Ben cried. “I’ve seen what those things go for on-line. You’re crazy!”

Paul grinned. “Think of it as an employee discount.”

~*~*~*~

That had been back in September. Ben had approved the estimate Paul provided and had pored over pictures as the project developed. It was going to be magnificent. Ben could hardly wait to see the look on Quinn’s face.

On the Tuesday of the last week before Christmas, Paul walked into the computer room carrying a large box. Their teammates looked on with undisguised curiosity as he carefully placed it on Ben’s desk, with a big grin.

Ben looked up. “Is that it?”

Paul nodded proudly. “And she’s a beauty, if I do say so myself.” He gestured to Ben to open it.

Ben carefully maneuvered around what seemed like yards of bubble wrap and packing peanuts and extracted the remote-controlled boat. Her wooden hull gleamed, and the white sails shone in the fluorescent overhead lighting. There were ooh’s and aah’s around the room. Ben’s grin was nearly as wide as Paul’s.

“Paul, she’s gorgeous! Quinn will be thrilled. I can’t thank you enough.”

Paul bowed modestly. “My pleasure, Ben. Had a lot of fun putting her together.” He leaned over the desk and pointed to the bow. “What do you think?”

Ben carefully rotated the boat. Burned into the wood on either side was a small Triquetra, the Celtic symbol for eternal spiritual life and being. Ben beamed. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

Paul smiled. “Figured he might like a bit of old Erin.”

Ben nodded happily. “He’s going to be blown away.” He held it up for the others to see. “Quinn’s Christmas present this year. Paul made her. Isn’t she amazing?”

The approval was loudly unanimous. 

~*~*~*~

Ben snuck the boat into the house while Quinn was at the faculty Christmas party at Sydney Hall. Quinn had invited him along, but Ben had declined, still uncomfortable with the idea of them being seen together at an Academy function, especially when the Board of Governors would be in attendance. Even though he was no longer an Academy employee, he figured better safe than sorry. Quinn had tactfully not argued the point. 

Christmas Eve was spent at St. Joseph’s Catholic Orphanage. A special Yuletide Mass, followed by Christmas dinner and a rowdy evening of holiday games, songs, videos and small gifts. Quinn gave the Reverend Mother his traditional “Secret Santa” offering, no longer feeling a need to remain anonymous, and they were presented with a poster-sized handmade drawing signed by all the children. 

Upon returning home, they kindled a fire in the big stone fireplace, turned on the Christmas tree and lit the traditional red candle in the front window to welcome the Christ Child. There were several wrapped packages under the tree to and from each other, as well as their families and friends on both sides of the ocean. Father Mick’s hand-carved wooden Nativity shone in the twinkling tree lights, and the mantel was crowded with Christmas cards. Bernini lay on his cushioned bed in front of the hearth, enjoying an enormous rawhide bone.

Ben warmed himself before the fire, then turned to Quinn, who was looking out the window at the softly falling snow. “I have something for you.”

Quinn nodded. “It *is* that time of the year,” he remarked, blue eyes twinkling with an almost childlike enthusiasm. 

Ben knelt and reached for the big box behind the tree. “You might want to sit down,” he cautioned, gesturing to the sofa.

Quinn raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. Ben carefully set the brightly wrapped package on the coffee table and stepped back. “Go on, open it.”

The gasp of pleasure and the look on the older man’s face said it all. “Ben,” he breathed. “It’s brilliant, absolutely grand.” He inspected the boat from stem to stern, gently caressing the Celtic emblem. “She’s amazing, love,” he said huskily. “We’ll have to be challenging Paul to a wee bit of a race come spring, yeah?”

Ben grinned. “Paul made her.”

“Did he now? Well, sure and we’ll be having to have him and his wife over soon to properly express our gratitude,” Quinn answered. “Thank you, love. She’s absolutely beautiful.” He reached inside his Harris Tweed blazer and handled Ben a sealed envelope. “And here’s a wee bit of Yuletide spirit for you.”

Ben opened the envelope and let out a stunned whistle. “*Quinn*!”

“I was thinking it was time you got a serious move-on toward making your lady street-legal,” Quinn said, with a smile. “Didn’t I hear you say you were after putting in a new engine next?”

“Yes, but-” Ben gulped. “Holy shit. I- you-” 

Quinn chuckled. “You’re welcome, love. If it’s not enough, let me know.”

“I- it’s *more* than enough,” Ben stammered. He carefully returned the check to the envelope and propped it against the lantern clock on the mantel, then slid into Quinn’s welcoming embrace. “Thank you,” he said, eyes full of love and gratitude.

Quinn handed him a brandy and they cuddled on the sofa, the boat proudly displayed on the coffee table before them. The lantern clock on the mantel softly chimed midnight.

“Nollaig Shona Duit,” Quinn murmured, followed by a gentle kiss.

“Merry Christmas, love,” Ben replied, clinking their snifters together. 

~end~


End file.
